So the release dates for each book in the WaterLord Trilogy are currently June, July and August 1st! Keep an eye out for them for your summer reads!
And to celebrate that, I got a new contract for a prequel to The Perils of Forgotten Pain. Were you curious about Overgrowth, and what happened on Earth that made humanity flee to space? You'll want to check out Remembrance.
Check out the sample first chapter below!
The war is over. The majority of
humanity has fled the dying planet to live in space, leaving behind a chemical
called Overgrowth that will speed up the restoration of the war torn world.
Some
were left behind, and not all by choice. As one chapter of humanity comes to a
close, a soldier who thought he had nothing left and a historian who sees
potential even in destruction will make a life out of what remains.
Chapter 1
A
man strode out of the forest, his blond hair gray in the ashy light of the streetlamps
and the roiling fog, which clung like a cat to his legs. A loose hinge on the
side of his tattered briefcase rattled lightly as he walked.
“Got
anything?” A leathery man held out a hand from the shadows, his voice creaking
as he spoke. “Just a bit?” The tall man passed by without answering, and the
beggar became lost in the fog.
The
man walked by metal structures, some of them leaning crazily to one side or the
other and some standing firm. Flickering lights and fluorescent hums marked
those that had survived, though the signs spelled only gibberish in the roiling
mist. Pictures could still be made out, mostly of red lips, long legs and huge
breasts. Words were unnecessary. The man turned down a narrow street, putting
his back to the signs.
There
were no leaning buildings here, and the grit from the main street had amassed
in full so that the man's footsteps crunched rather than clacked. Wooden
buildings, dwarfed by the metal ones still visible in the skyline, promised
light and food. Voices could be heard here, female and male, laughing uproariously
at some common joke. The words here were etched or carved into the wood. The
man took his chances on one, a sign that waved in the damp wind and promised
“Bes Drosoph in the City.”
A
woman who's ribs showed through the skintight clothing she wore opened the door
for him, a smile plastered on her face. “Lemme guess-pounds over pity?”
The
man nodded, the pupils of his blue eyes constricting painfully in the light. He
didn't usually stay long in these places, where those who had been left behind
scraped to live as they could, indulging in the glaring phosphorescence of the
buildings that surrounded them.
His
feet thudded heavily on the wooden floorboards, and they creaked. No one looked
up save for one young girl bedecked in plastic pearls, and she smiled at him as
winningly as she could with a mouthful of graying teeth.
The
man looked away, focusing on the rough grain of the wood. A group of men to his
right slapped their table, making the dishware rattle.
“Over
here, Nella!” The girl's wide hips swayed invitingly as she walked, the folds
of her blue dress brushing the man's ear as she strode by. She turned to smile
at him, a ruby rictus, before a long haired man grabbed her with one arm,
pulling her into his lap.
“You're
good luck, beauty.” He chuckled, and she bit her lip as she adjusted herself to
straddle the burly man's knee. His thick arm completely covered her waist, and
she slumped in his grasp.
The
tall man turned away, carefully placing the battered briefcase under the table.
For a time he closed his eyes, basked in the presence of other people, letting
their conversations wash over him. He had traveled alone for a long time.
“Ouch!
Don't bite me!”
“Four
aces!”
“Have
you heard? Another youth gang hit the food stores.”
“Oh
really? Then why do we have this then?”
“You
think this is any good?! I shoulda ordered the pork. And this beer tastes like
weasel piss.”
“There
are no weasels here, idiot.”
Forks
clanged on plates, feet tapped on the floor, and laughter rose and fell. Low
voices discussed sweet nothings in the room above the lounge, and he tried to
make out what they said.
A
tap on his shoulder finally stirred him from his concentration. “You can't
sleep in here, you know. You need a room for that.” The slim hipped woman from
before stood over him, a twang of annoyance in her voice hiding behind her
plaster smile.
“I'm
merely relaxing,” he spoke, his voice a rasping whisper. “May I order a meal?”
The
woman blinked long lashes in surprise at
his voice, and her mouth turned down. “What do you want?”
“The
pork.”
“To
drink?”
“Just
water.”
The
woman sashayed away to fulfill the request. The man closed his eyes, letting
the voices in the room wash over him once more, until a clatter at the table
caught his attention.
A
dark haired man had sat down across from him.
“What's
your name?” he asked hurriedly, his voice pitched low.
“Aldric.”
The man answered, pain finally blooming in his throat as he spoke. He tensed as
he watched the other man's eyes rove around the room like a hunted animal. His
damaged, rasping voice, ordinarily offputting to the people he met, didn't seem
to faze this one.
“Alright,
Aldric, just pretend you know me. Please? Just...talk.”
“What
about?” Aldric listened. There was nothing dangerous here that he could sense,
no indication of what this man could be running from. Then again, with no real
law enforcement, no structure since the end of the war save for one
rule-survive as long as you can-a certain amount of paranoia was expected.
“Where
do you live around here? I don't recognize you.”
Aldric
sighed. “I am a traveler. I've come from...inland.”
“A
traveler?” Some of the tension left his companion, replaced with curiosity. “How
far have you come?”
Aldric
looked away from the other man's gaze, watching as the woman who was supposed
to be serving him water got waylaid by two men who stared at his new companion
out of the corner of their eyes. One of them palmed the woman’s breasts, and
the other whispered in her ear. She
smiled and her eyes met his. “A long way.”
“I'd
love to hear about your travels,” the man said, speaking just a bit louder to
get his attention. Aldric shifted his gaze, wondering if his new table
companion had noticed the two men. His eyes were fixed on Aldric. “No one here
has ever left and come back.”
“Is
it...nice here?” Where had the two men gone? Now there was only the woman,
filling the pitcher, and the other one, called Nella, shrieked as some other
man tickled her.
Finally
the other man followed his gaze. “Look, I'll buy you a nice woman for the night
if you just-”
Aldric
stood and caught the knife that had whistled through the air inches from the
dark haired man's ear, the blade slicing through the fabric of his glove and
then stopping. He turned and locked eyes with one of the men, the one who had
whispered to the girl, who ran out the door. Voices quieted for only a moment
before the buzz resumed. Something like this was not uncommon here.
The
dark haired man's eyes boggled. “Are...is your hand alright?” He reached for
it, and Aldric snatched it away, pocketing the knife.
“There's
still one more. You should leave.”
“Alone?”
the man squeaked. “Why not come with me?” When Aldric narrowed his eyes, he
continued, “If you're a traveler, you need a place to stay, and you've already
saved my life once. Let me repay you? C’mon, I need your help.”
Aldric
raised an eyebrow. If he was desperate enough to be begging strangers... “Lead
on then.”
The
two stood up together and headed out into the dirty night air. Aldric had not
gotten his meal, or even a glass of water. At least he didn’t have to pay.
As
he followed the man, who walked hunched to hide himself, the dingy shops gave
way to shacks and houses, gaping holes in the sides on some of them signaling
either the presence of an inhabitant or lack of one. No shortage of housing
here. Mud began to squelch around Aldric's boots as he walked further, and though
the streets were more mired and pitted, at least the houses began to look nicer
as they moved away from the heart of the city.
Aldric
watched his new companion closely. He had seen his like before, the same
furtive, nervous walk that betrayed a long time of persecution, coupled with a
strong desire to live. What did this man have to live for? Who targeted him?
This curiosity led Aldric to walk silently behind Daniel, using years of
training to accomplish the same vigilance that Daniel clumsily tried to
perform.
He
sensed them long before Daniel did, and gave no sign of it. Three men and a
dog. The dog attacked first, growls cutting the night, and Aldric stepped in
front of its target, throwing him arm up as the animal leapt for Daniel.
Teeth
clamped down, and Aldric spun and threw the animal to the ground, shoulder
muscles straining under the weight. With a pivot he faced the men who had begun
to run toward them with clubs held high. The fingers of his right arm twitched,
as though preparing to fire a gun he did not hold.
The men slowed and stopped when they saw the
dog limping away, realizing their ambush had failed. The two groups faced each
other for a moment before the men shrank back into the shadows, scattering and
disappearing behind houses and fallen wood.
“Once
again, thank you.” Daniel moved close to him, so close Aldric could smell his
piney scent. He kept clean, too. Unusual in a place like this.
“Is
you arm alright?” Aldric took a step back, giving Daniel a firm nod. The man
stared, his gaze fixed for a moment, before shrugging and turning.
“Come
on. We're almost there, and I don't think they'll try anything again tonight.”
***
They
crossed a muddy, pitted track that was once probably a creek or stream, the
forest looming close and the lights and stink of the city receding. Fitting.
“Here
we are.” Daniel jogged up the steps of a stone house that looked to once have
housed at least two families. Unlocking numerous deadbolts from keys on his
belt, he thrust the heavy metal door open and waved Aldric inside. Fluorescent
lights stung his eyes as he entered, ducking through the warped doorway. It
looked almost like a bunker.
“Let
me see your hand. Take off your gloves.” Daniel moved toward him, arms
outstretched.
“No.”
Aldric firmly stepped away. “I am fine.”
“That
dog bit you! I saw it! And the knife...” He trailed off in the face of Aldric's
firm stare.
“So
you're really fine?” Aldric nodded, standing stiffly in the foyer.
“Fine
then. Well...I guess I owe you hospitality, and breakfast too, since you saved
me twice. Do you want to sleep now, or maybe you could tell me about your-”
“Sleep.”
Aldric said gruffly, ignoring Daniel's disappointment. “Do you...have running
water here?”
“I
do. There's a bathroom and sink down the hall. You can sleep here on the floor,
or if you don't mind, we can share the bed in the other room.”
The offer tempted him. Once such an offer
would mean something, but now Aldric knew that sharing a bed was simply a
necessity of the times, a comfortable place to sleep snatched whenever and
wherever it could be. Even so...he couldn't risk it.
“The
floor is fine.”
“Really?
Well, if you're sure...”
“I
am.”
“Alright.
I have extra blankets. There's no heat, but that hasn't been a problem for
years now.” He flashed a sad smile. “I guess I'll head to bed. Um, thanks again
for your help. I hope...I mean, well...”
Aldric
cocked his head, waiting.
“It's
nothing. I'll take you out for breakfast in the morning. Good night. Give me
ten and then the bathroom is all yours.”
Aldric
ran a gloved hand through his hair, setting up his blankets into a makeshift
bed on the floor. Daniel confused him, being kind-or perhaps desperate-enough
to invite him into his home after having barely known him. Other people in his
travels had rarely been so caring.
It
would certainly not last, so he may as well try to enjoy it. Aldric prepared
for sleep after Daniel entered the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.
Rummaging through his suitcase, Aldric moved his gun and tools out of the way
and took out a change of clothes, then locked it up again. He slept in the
clothes he had worn that day, down to the gloves. He would change in the
morning, before Daniel awoke. It would not do if the other man saw him.
Sleep
came easily, unusual for Aldric.
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